


For Whom the Bell Tolls

by phantomphan28



Series: As Autumn Colors Fall [1]
Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon), Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Episode Retelling: The Ringing of the Bell, Fairy Tale Elements, M/M, Partial Mind Control, Possession, Spooky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 23:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16396847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomphan28/pseuds/phantomphan28
Summary: One night in a dark and winding wood, a tailor meets a strange young man.





	For Whom the Bell Tolls

**Author's Note:**

> I had the need to write something spooky this year (especially since I won’t be finishing 31 Horrific Days this year either...). Happy Halloween!

It was a dark and stormy night, as such stories are wont to begin. The rain pounded the ground below, occasionally deflected by hanging branches over the beaten forest path. A single figure hurried through the gloom, desperate to escape the downpour. The hood of his cloak was pulled close to his face, both to shield it from the rain and to conserve what heat he could. He hadn’t seen another town in days and was unlikely to see one any time soon; he knew he should have taken his chances in that odd little inn. Shivering, he pressed on, keeping watch for anything that could serve as shelter until morning.

The woods were beginning to thin. Moving a branch out of his face, he saw a dilapidated cottage settled in a semi-cleared patch of land. He hurried over to the cottage and opened the door, hoping that the roof had no leaks. To his surprise, the inside of the house was homey and well lived-in, stark contrast to the disrepair outside. Closing the door behind him, he walked over to the hearth and built up kindling for a fire, then lit it with the flint and steel in his pocket.

He pulled back his hood, revealing a reptilian face and slitted blue eyes. He held his grey, scaled hands in front of the flames to warm them and took a quick glance around. Why, he wondered, would someone go through the trouble of making a home out in the middle of the woods, then take such pains to make it look abandoned? How desperately must they want to avoid company?

He straightened as he heard soft footfalls from below. Of course the owner was home. Just his luck. He smoothed his dark hair and turned towards the cellar door as the footfalls grew louder. Best prepare to make his apologies to the owner.

“Auntie?” A voice called as the cellar door opened. “Auntie, I’ve finished sorting the—”

A young man entered the room. He was tall and slender, clad in simple black trousers and white top, with dark hair and bronze skin, though waxen from lack of sun. Upon seeing a stranger, he gasped sharply and stepped back "Who— who are you?"

"I beg your pardon, young man." he began. "It was not my wish to alarm you. I only sought shelter from the rain, and did not suppose this house was occupied."

"Sir, I believe you, but please—" he was cut off by a dreadful-sounding cough. "Please, hide yourself at once! Auntie Whispers is coming soon!"

Before he could ask about whom the young man was referring to, great heavy steps came closer to the front door. He was suddenly grabbed by the scruff of his neck and pushed towards a large basket.

"Hide, quickly!" With a rough shove, he was pushed in, and the lid was haphazardly thrown on top. He looked around as best he could in the darkness. All he could see were the sides of the basket, and —

_Turtles? The hell?_

He heard the front door creak open and heavy steps enter the house.

"Welcome home, Auntie." the young man murmured sweetly.

"Julian, my sweet child." A deep, wavering voice replied. He heard an exaggerated sniff and a thoughtful hum. "Has anyone come here today?"

"No, Auntie." The young man— _Julian_ — sounded rather put out. "Not a soul."

"Then no one shall be... _devoured alive_ tonight?" The woman asked in conspiratorial glee.

"I certainly hope not!" Julian replied, affronted.

 _Devoured alive?_ Exactly what kind of house had he stumbled into?

"You're a good boy, Julian, but you deceive me."

"I speak the truth, Auntie, I swear!" Julian's voice took a worried edge.

"Deceive me not, child!" The woman's voice grew hard. "I can smell them." Another great sniff. "I can smell the stranger in this house."

That had better not be some kind remark on his bathing habits; it was hardly his fault that the river was too cold for him to use. Dreadfully rude, this woman.

"Tell me where you have hidden them, precious one." she wheedled.

"I—" Julian stammered.

"The ringing of the bell... commands you." He heard a bell ring, sweet and sharp, and Julian gasped.

 _"Look,"_ he murmured, sounding dazed. _"In the basket."_

The steps grew closer to his hiding place. "You have entered a house of doom, stranger." the woman intoned. "Your doom."

He held his breath as the basket lid was lifted. This was going to be a very unpleasant way to die. He heard Julian gasp, then whimper slightly.

But death did not come.

"Oh, my dear," the woman said in surprise, "why all along, you meant it be the turtles that smell so ripe!"

Julian sighed in relief. "Y-yes, that is what I meant."

He heard Whispers hum, then a crunching that could only be one of the turtles in her mouth. Really, she couldn't cook it first? Disgusting.

"Then you have no evil secrets to keep?" she asked, mouth full.

“No, not a one.”

There was a creak of the floorboards. “Then off to bed go I, and you, Julian— you shall sort the bones of those who have been eaten here before.”

“I have finished already.” Julian sounded happier.

“Then clean this floor until it shines.” Whispers replied immediately. “The ringing of the bell _commands_ you!”

He heard the bell again and a sharp intake of breath.

 _“Yes, Auntie Whispers.”_ Julian murmured. Was it his imagination, or did he detect a hint of exasperation in Julian’s voice?

“You know I do this for you, child.” She said. “Keeping you busy is the only way to keep evil spirits from driving you to wickedness.”

Oh, dear, was this her justification? He was disliking this woman more with every passing minute.

“Do not worry, Auntie Whispers.” Julian replied soothingly. “The work will keep me busy.” He heard the rasp of a broomstick against the floor and a sharp coughing fit.

“Good night, my dear.” He heard her creak up the stairs. “And douse that fire. I did not ask you to light it.”

After a few moments, great reverberating snores rumbled throughout the house. “Come out, my turtle.” Julian called in a whisper. “She sleeps.”

He carefully poked his head out of the basket. “Are you quite certain?”

“Yes.” Julian answered with a gentle smile. 

He clambered out of the basket and stepped back in front of the fire, grateful that it still burned. “I don’t believe I ever introduced myself. My name is Garak.” As he warmed his hands before the flames, he heard Julian dissolve into another coughing fit. “Dear me, that sounds dreadful! Are you alright?”

The coughing tapered off. “It’s my illness.” Julian gasped. “It’s the reason Auntie Whispers is so hard on me.”

“Well, that hardly seems fair! Perhaps a doctor would be better than manual labor for your condition. Has one been here to examine you?”

“Auntie doesn’t allow visitors here.” Julian spoke into a handkerchief he had removed from his pocket to dab at the spittle on his mouth. “She believes outsiders will lead me to become wicked.”

“I find that difficult to imagine. It would be a great surprise to me if there were a single wicked bone to be found in your entire body!” Garak exclaimed.

Julian’s face turned a lovely shade of rose. “That’s very kind of you to say, sir.”

“Oh, no need for ‘sir’; merely ‘Garak’ will do.” He replied with a smile.

Julian smiled in return and went back to sweeping. Suddenly Garak was concerned he’d upset the poor dear with criticism.

“If I gave offense in regards to your family—”

“Oh, we’re not actually related!” Julian reassured him.

That... hardly made her treatment of him any better. Quite the opposite, in fact.

“So, you must continue this until you have obeyed her order to the letter?” He asked, attempting to change the subject.

Julian nodded. “The work never ends. By the time this task is complete, she will order me to a new task and so it goes.”

Leaving him to work himself into an early grave, no doubt. That simply wouldn’t do. Something had to be done.

“Perhaps if I assist you, the work will be done sooner, and then...” he jerked his head in the direction of the door.

“What, escape? With you?”

“Of course!” He replied. “You could easily make a new life for yourself outside of the woods. And, besides,” he added with a teasing lilt, “I’ve always wanted an apprentice.”

Julian’s eyes filled with hope. “Yes, perhaps this time will be different! I’d be happy to escape with you, Mr. Garak!”

“Just ‘Garak’, my dear. Plain, simple—”

"Garak.” they chorused, Julian breaking into a laugh. The cleaning rag slipped from his hand and fell to the floor. As he and Garak reached for it, their hands brushed, and Julian looked away bashfully when Garak handed it to him.

“Shall I begin on this side?” Garak asked, taking the broom.

Julian nodded, still blushing. “Y-Yes.” He set to washing the baseboards of the room. “So, what is your business, Garak? You mentioned wanting an apprentice.”

“I’m a tailor by trade.” Garak replied as he swept by the fireplace. “I have no shop of my own yet, but perhaps when I find a town to settle in, I will. For now, I take work on the road when I can.”

“That sounds like an adventure of its own.” How terribly sheltered Julian was, to find an itinerant tailor’s life an adventure. But still, so very sweet.

“Well, as a matter of fact, I was just in an inn a day or so from here...”

 

* * *

 

They continued to talk as they worked, Garak telling stories of his travels and the Beast who haunted the woods, Julian of his life in the cottage and the dreams he had of what he would do when he left. Before long, the work was complete, and the room looked better than it had in years.

“Well, that’s the last of it.” Garak stayed with a quick look around.

“I could never have finished without you.” Julian gently entwined his arm around Garak‘s and rested his head on the tailor’s shoulder with a happy sigh. How deliciously warm he was! He glanced over and consciously thought what he had noticed earlier: Julian was truly a beautiful man. He was seized by the desire to kiss those pretty lips of his and leaned close. Just as Julian tilted his head up, Garak realized something very concerning.

Auntie Whispers was no longer snoring.

He looked up sharply as heavy steps rapidly came down the stairs. Julian gasped and hid behind Garak as a hulking figure appeared.

“Why have you come here?” She cried. She was twice Julian’s size, both in height and width, with a hooked nose and crooked pitch-black teeth. “You shan’t remain alive for long in this house.” She loomed over them as she approached. “I’m warning you, stranger. Keep away from my Julian, or you shall be hastily gobbled up!”

Julian’s grip tightened on his shoulders, most likely in fear. “I won’t allow you to harm him! I’ve come to free Julian from your clutches, witch!”

Her owl-like eyes narrowed. “Julian, come here!” She beckoned him with a crook of her gnarled finger.

Julian tried to stammer something out, but he could barely muster a sound. Poor thing; Garak could feel him trembling.

She reached into the pocket of her voluminous dress. “The ringing of the bell comman—”

She stopped suddenly, feeling around both her pockets. “Uh, where—” She scratched at her head in contemplation. “Did I leave the bell on the nightstand?”

Julian seized Garak’s wrist and pulled him towards the cellar. “Follow me! Run!”

“Noooooo!” Whispers yelled as they ran into the cellar, slamming the door behind them. Garak quickly shoved a chair under the handle, blocking it. Julian retreated into the darkness, probably to find the way out. Garak saw a flickering candle in a holder and picked it up.

He felt the woman banging her fists on the door. “Come out before it is too late! Unlock this door! He will devour you!”

Garak could have laughed. As if her threats could truly frighten him—

Wait. What did she mean, _“he”_ would devour him?

A sharp hissing caused him to turn and look into the dark and lift the candle. Julian’s form began to twist and crack. His teeth sharpened to jagged razors and his hands curled into claws. His face grew gaunt and he gave a skeletal grin. His dark eyes widened with glee.

 **“MoRe BoNeS tO sOrT!”** He crowed, his sweet, soft voice now a raspy growl.

Garak cried out in horror and backed away. Suddenly, Whispers’ actions made a great deal more sense.

“I told you to stay away from him, stranger,” Whispers called through the door. “But now you’ve gone and made him wicked again!”

Well, there was no need to rub it in! Rude.

Garak looked around, then saw the window to his left. He’d wedged the chair too tightly under the door for him to remove, but maybe...

Without another thought, Garak leapt and crashed through the window, landing on the ground outside. Huffing, he bolted, making for the tree line. Perhaps he could lose Julian in the woods!

Suddenly, he stumbled and crashed to the ground, having tripped over a bit of firewood. He turned and saw Julian crawling out of the broken window.

 **“FoRgIvE mE, mY dEaR mIsTeR gArAk,”** Julian rasped, **“BuT i MuSt FeEd!”** He pounced and launched himself into the air with a hiss, heading straight for Garak.

Garak glanced around frantically, looking for something to use as a weapon. His gaze fell upon a golden glimmer in the grass. He grabbed it and held it to the light. It was a little gold bell, shaped like a woman in a dress. He realized it must be Whispers’ bell, having fallen out of the open window above while she slept.

With a flick of his wrist, the bell chimed. Julian staggered, shook his head to clear it, and flew at Garak again. Seeing what had happened, he rang the bell with more fervor. “The ringing of the bell commands you!” He cried out.

Julian froze in midair, enchanted, eyes glowing with a ghostly light. Even still, he reached for Garak with his clawed hands. _**“ThE sPiRiT cOmPeLs Me...”**_ he rasped.

Thinking quickly, Garak held the bell aloft and rang it again. “Release Julian from your power, spirit, and never harm him or any other for as long as you roam this world!”

With a roar, a great white light poured from Julian’s mouth and shot straight into the air, dispersing as it climbed. Julian dropped to the ground, limp as a rag doll.

“Julian!” Garak cried, scrambling over and holding him in his arms.

Julian stirred and his eyes fluttered open. “Garak?” His face now bore a healthy bloom, and his eyes glittered in the moonlight. “Oh, Garak, you saved me!” Delighted, he sat up quickly and wrapped his arms around Garak in a passionate embrace, then kissed him full on the mouth.

Garak’s eyes slipped close as he savored the kiss. His lips really were as soft and warm as he’d imagined.

“Julian? Julian?”

They broke apart as Whispers hurried out of the house. Julian smiled bashfully; this had been his first kiss, after all.

“Oh, my Julian!” Whispers cried out, seeing him unharmed.

“Auntie Whispers!” Julian hurried to his feet and ran to her, hugging her tightly.

“I thought he’d stolen you away.” She crooned, stroking his hair.

“No, Auntie, he saved me! He banished the evil spirit with your bell.”

"Oh, Julian—" she sniffled. "That's wonderful, dear."

Julian frowned. "Auntie Whispers, what's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing's wrong, dear. I'm happy!" She dried her eyes. "You're finally free to leave old Auntie Whispers and live the life you've always wanted."

"Leave?" Julian's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Auntie, I can't just abandon you! You're my family!" He buried his face in her shoulder and began to cry.

"Oh, darling..." She stroked his hair and hushed him. "Why speak you of abandoning? You will always have a home here with me, and you can come back whenever you wish. Besides," she looked at Garak with a knowing look, "I think there is someone who would wish you go with him."

Garak got to his feet as Julian turned, drying his eyes. He looked up and smiled sheepishly. "I ask your forgiveness for the witch comment earlier."

Whispers shrugged. "Why? I be that very witch. How think you I came by the bell?" She smiled. "Thank you for saving my Julian."

"It was the least I could do."

She hummed thoughtfully. "Go, Julian, invite your gentleman friend in for tea. I would speak with him of his intentions towards you." With that, she turned and went back into the cottage.

Julian walked over and held out his hand. "Won't you come in?"

Garak took it. "I will, though I fear for my survival. Your aunt is quite intimidating."

Julian laughed and kissed him on the cheek. "Take heart, my love. She doesn't bite. Hard."

Garak chuckled and squeezed Julian's hand. Truly, he was unafraid. After all, they had the future to look forward to.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I saw this episode. Tim Curry did such a fantastic job as Auntie Whispers!


End file.
